


the most selfish of passions

by Alana



Category: Metro 2033 & Related Fandoms
Genre: Ficlet, Kissing, M/M, Mid-Canon, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 04:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18631243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alana/pseuds/Alana
Summary: The first time Artyom kissed anyone, it was brief, stolen, giddy in the dark corridor leading behind the theater-- Pavel had made a startled noise, and Artyom pulled back, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed, certain he'd misjudged.





	the most selfish of passions

The first time Artyom kissed anyone, it was brief, stolen, giddy in the dark corridor leading behind the theater-- Pavel had made a startled noise, and Artyom pulled back, suddenly feeling hot and embarrassed, certain he'd misjudged. Here Pavel was, a real hero, the kind of man who went out of his way to save a stranger-- an enemy-- when he could have left him behind, saved himself the trouble of having a tagalong. Here Pavel was, kind enough to bring him home, to take him to Theater to see the last bit of art in the radiation-blasted world, and Artyom thought he could take more from the man, steal a kiss from the friend who'd done so much for him?

The first time Artyom is kissed back, Pavel grabbed his wrist as he was pulling away, hot-faced and heart-racing, turned them against the wall, shadowed Artyom's body and touched his cheek. "Tak-tak-tak-tak-tak... you take your time, don't you, priyatel?" he said, and Artyom wondered why his grin was so sad as he leaned in close. Then Artyom wondered why he hadn't kissed Pavel sooner, his doubt fleeing him like a spider from the light as the soft, soft lips of his hero, his friend, meet his.

Pavel, Artyom swiftly discovered, knew how to kiss; his scars and lopsided smile and quick wit must have charmed someone else, or many someones, and Artyom couldn't even be jealous. It meant Pavel knew how to slide his hands around Artyom's waist, how to press him against the wall in a way that made Artyom feel safe. The noise of the Metro was muffled by the soft, encouraging murmurs Pavel made, the chill abated by the closeness of his body, and Artyom could hardly remember a time he felt so right; surely not since before the bombs fell.

When Pavel pulled away, Artyom let his head fall back against the wall, gulped down air, slid his hands up from their awkward curl on Pavel's chest to hesitantly touch his scars, his cheek, his lips, and Pavel answers that with a kiss to Artyom's palm, a gesture that made his spine prickle with something hot and intense; but when Artyom moved to reply to it with another daring kiss, Pavel tugged away, tipped his head, smiled at Artyom.

"Come on, chuvak, we have dinner to go to," he said, "we'll have, uh, plenty more time for that after, right?"

A little laugh burbled out of him, and he nodded, willingly letting Pavel take his wrist again to lead him through the backstage.

**Author's Note:**

> :3c


End file.
